


But Ashes Were All That Remained

by PresquePommes



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 13:08:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1606304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PresquePommes/pseuds/PresquePommes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t until the moment he realized he couldn’t tell Marco’s bones from the rest that he knew the meaning of loss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But Ashes Were All That Remained

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kalashnikov](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalashnikov/gifts).



> People were starting to become entirely too confident that I am not a horrible person. Ron is too, though. We're terrible people.

It wasn’t until the moment he realized he couldn’t tell Marco’s bones from the rest that he knew the meaning of loss.

Even when he’d been staring down at Marco’s corpse, it had all felt like some sick joke.

The body had only looked like Marco in the same sense that a half-finished painting looked like its subject. His freckles had stood out against the bloodless pallor of his cheeks in a way that wasn’t right- where the flush of adolescence had always lent his skin a certain sheen, it looked nothing like the waxy slickness of early decomposition.

Now Marco’s body had been lost in the flecks of ash that had floated up from the burning pyre, and all he had left of him was whatever he’d breathed in and a sense of dissatisfaction.

There was a part of him that could not accept Marco’s death.

He found himself expecting Marco to come cringing through the door with his finger raised over his lips like he could blend back in, like he’d never been gone at all. He could envision him apologizing to their captain, wincing with all the sheepish embarrassment of someone forced to break the mild despite his faith in the system.

He found himself frustrated, seeking Marco’s face in the crowd.

He found himself wanting to talk to Marco when difficult questions arose.

He noticed his absence more than he’d ever realized he would, and with every passing day that the loss didn’t grow more real, his gut began to creep lower and lower with the realization of how deep his affections had run.

Sometimes he lay awake, composing conversations, even entire scenes in his mind.

He envisioned Marco responding to Annie’s betrayal- the shock way his mouth would slip open, the fall of his eyebrows, the question in his dark eyes. He saw his lips turning up hesitantly, hopeful but not unrealistic.

 _“Annie wouldn’t do that to us,”_ he’d say, not quite believing it himself but certainly wanting to, _“she’s one of us. We trained together for years.”_

He told Marco about Eren’s titan shifting powers and heard too clearly how amazed he’d be.

Marco would never question Eren’s loyalty. He’d be nervous, yes, but never afraid.

He knew Marco would stare over Captain Levi’s head with his eyebrows pinched together because it was strange to have to look down to meet the eyes of his superior.

In his mind, he watched Marco blanch at Levi’s crude language and even cruder behaviour. He laughed aloud at the thought of it, startling awake his bunkmate.

He pictured Marco smiling at him when he reached for his hand under the table at dinner, saw him turning to him with a long-suffering smile and whispering,

_“That took you long enough, didn’t it?”_

and then laughing softly when the heat overtook Jean’s cheeks.

He saw and heard and felt Marco respond to so many things.

There was so much left to say, but ashes were all that remained of everything that never was.


End file.
